Smooth Criminal
by Mahone-chic-89
Summary: NHL Washington Capitals: After the suspicious deaths of 3 NHL players the league decides to take action and hire private investigators to analyze the situation. FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. Summary

Summary:

The NHL has been rocked during the offseason. After the suspicious deaths of three players, the league decides to take action and investigate the incidents. Initially the deaths are thought to be suicides, however as more information comes to light, the league begins to wonder what really caused the players to die the way they did. The NHL officials hire one private investigator for each team in the league. The investigators are to observe the players, research the players' histories and backgrounds and determine which players are susceptible to a similar fate. As they observe and research the players, the investigators are also instructed to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior that may lead them to the cause of the unusual deaths.

Jackie O'Brian is a private investigator who worked for the FBI for five years before deciding that the Bureau just was not for her. She is hired as the Washington Capitals private investigator and soon finds herself in the middle of what could be yet another potential incident. When one of the Capitals' players starts to exhibit the same behaviors as the three players who died, it's up to O'Brian to figure out why and stop this awful trend from continuing. What she discovers, however, will rock the league to its very core…

**Author's Note: Due to the sensitivity of the issues regarding the three REAL NHL players who have passed away, I will be making up the names of the players who "die" in this story. This story is loosely based off of the recent incidents involving hockey players in the NHL who have died under unusual circumstances. **

**ALSO: I am in college at the moment so I'm not sure how often I'll update…just FYI!**


	2. Let the Games Begin

**Author's note: Any players who have/will die in this story will be OC's of mine. Due to the sensitivity of recent issues in the NHL with players over dosing in "real life" I will use ficticious names rather than real names. Also, any players or people in this story that do not die are based off of the real players, however, since this is a FICTIONAL STORY some personalities may be altered to fit the storyline (i.e. who the good guys and bad guys are). Therefore please do not send me any flames regarding players who I "demonize" or use in any negative light…it's fiction so therefore it is NOT REAL so there is no need to get upset over it. Thanks! : ) **

They are the worst words a hockey player could ever hear. The words every player in the NHL dreaded: You can never come back.

For most players, those words came late into their careers. By then their bodies have grown older and are no longer as resilient as they once were. But, for the unlucky ones, those words can come sooner, much sooner, than ever anticipated.

The unlucky young players who are forced out of the NHL due to injuries suffer from bouts of severe depression, anxiety, lack of interest in everyday things, lack of motivation and worst of all: no idea what to do with the remainder of their lives. Some players are forced to go to therapy, others never make it there. Some commit suicide or just disappear all together as they attempt to reconcile with the fact that their lives will never be the same. Fame has come and gone for these players…and for some…that's just too much to handle…

…

"O'Brian!" boomed the man as he shouted unnecessarily into the microphone.

Jackie O'Brian jumped a little in her hard, rusty, metal folding chair near the back of the large auditorium. They had all been in that room for the entire morning and her entire body had become as stiff as a board.

The freaking FBI, she thought as she waited for the man to continue speaking. Yes, that's right, the Federal Bureau of Investigation had called in private investigators from across the country to do their job for them: shocker. Jackie had once worked for the Bureau until she realized that it wasn't the job for her. The bureaucracy of the place nearly choked her to death. She was much too free-spirited for such an environment…that was why she chose the life of a P.I. She made her own schedules, set up her own appointments and conducted investigations at her own pace in her own time. She was, for the most part, her own boss…and that's just how she liked it.

But this time Jackie found herself going through déjà vu. The Bureau had called them in to discuss the issues with the NHL. Apparently three NHL players had died within the past couple of months; an alarming statistic to say the very least. The NHL had called up the FBI and requested an investigation be done to see why these players had died the way they did. However the Bureau found that it would be best for such an issue to be handled by the P.I.'s of the world, so they shoved the assignment into her and several other investigator's laps. Again: shocker.

The morning consisted of the Bureau informing them of the issues and the various theories that the NHL had come up with: suicides, accidental overdoses and the most surprising and alarming of all: murder. All three players had died the same exact way: an overdose of oxycodone and alcohol. Another common denominator: all three players had either been out of the past season due to injury or recent retirement. O'Brian's instincts said depression plus pills and alcohol equaled suicide, but the fact that there were three victims with traces of the exact same drug in the exact same dosage told her something more may be going on here.

"O'Brian you will be assigned to the Washington Capitals!" boomed the big, black man on the small stage in front of all the investigators.

O'Brian sighed as she mentally prepared herself to pack up all her things and leave Chicago for Washington D.C. There she would investigate the Capitals and watch the players for signs of distress or suspicious behavior in an attempt to thwart another unwanted and unsuspecting death. In the process she, and the other investigators assigned to the rest of the NHL teams, hoped to find the real reason behind the suspicious deaths and put an end to them before another player fell victim to overdose.

Jackie O'Brian sighed as she stood up and turned to leave the room.

"Let the games begin…"

…

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	3. Meeting Jackie

**Had a bit more free time than expected tonight so here's another update : ) Again, I'm at college so updates may come in waves or sporadically depending upon my work schedule. Thanks so much for reading!**

Jackie O'Brian was way in over her head. She had never watched a single game of hockey before in her life and now she was about to set foot in a locker room and talk to a bunch of scared, nervous, and angry hockey players.

Her plane had arrived right on time in Washington D.C. and Jackie made a bee-line for the Kettler Iceplex in Arlington, the Washington Capital's practice rink. She had been thinking about this case for the past several hours on her journey from Chicago to D.C. and it was beginning to eat away at her already. She needed to figure these guys out…these hockey players. She was never one to watch a sports game, much less a hockey game, so this was sure to be a challenge. She just hoped the guys didn't see right through her.

She strutted right into Kettler in her red stiletto heels, black knee-length skirt and red silk top. She had at least done _some_ research in the airport earlier and knew that the team's them was "Rock the Red" and she had made sure to do just that…and looking hot while doing it wasn't such a bad thing either. At least she'd have their attention.

General Manager George McPhee stopped dead in his tracks as Jackie strutted into Kettler. He peered at her over his glasses and lowered the clipboard he was carrying as he watched her glance around, appearing to be lost.

"Can I help you?"

Jackie jumped in surprise as the tall, tough-looking man spoke to her, "Oh, um, yes I'm Jackie O'Brian…the private investigator who was hired for…"

"The suicides," interrupted McPhee quickly, his tone and eyes hardening.

Jackie forced a smile and her eyes narrowed slightly as she noted McPhee's reaction to her introduction, "Well I hope that's what it is…I certainly hope nothing more…sinister…is going on in the National Hockey League."

McPhee gave Jackie a tight smile, "I'm sure you won't find anything more 'sinister' Miss O'Brian. I'm George McPhee, the Capitals General Manager and the man you'll be reporting to while you investigate my team."

Jackie smirked as she shook his hand, "With all due respect Mr. McPhee, I'll be reporting to my contact at the FBI. This is an investigation and I was hired by the government for this one so I answer to them and only them this time around. However in the future if you find yourself in need of my services and choose to hire me yourself then I'd me more than happy to report all my findings to you."

McPhee couldn't help but admire the pretty, young brunette as she sized him up with her dark brown eyes. She was spunky, smart, fast and seemed rather unfazed by his brutish antics. As far as first impressions went, so far so good.

"Fine," said McPhee, keeping up his tough charade, "Then if you'll follow me I'll take you to the locker room. The boys are in there all geared up for practice so if you can make this as fast as possible I think they, myself and Coach Boudreau would all appreciate it."

Jackie just smiled back, refusing to let McPhee know that his tone and attitude were getting on her nerves, "I think I can manage that."

McPhee nodded curtly as he escorted Jackie toward two double doors that led to another room farther inside the Kettler Iceplex. He opened the door and stepped aside to let Jackie in.

Instantly Jackie found herself standing in front of about thirty men, mostly in their twenties, all staring up at her expectantly. Her mouth went dry and she fought to keep her composure as she entered the room.

"Hello," she said hesitantly, "I'm Jackie O'Brian and I'm a private investigator."

The team gazed up at her as she spoke. Some of them looked upset while others looked scared and confused. A couple players looked like they were ready to go kill somebody…those players made her nervous so she chose to avoid eye-contact with them for the moment.

"I understand that this is very hard for all of you to deal with," she said after a long pause, "And…I wanted to say that I am very sorry for your loss. I'm sure some of you at least knew of the men who have passed away and I just want to assure you that if I find out who or what is causing these awful things to happen that I will not stop until that person or thing is no longer a threat. I take my job very seriously especially when it involves human lives."

As Jackie spoke some of the players began to nod in agreement, their eyes flashing with anger at whoever or whatever had caused the deaths. Alexander Ovechkin, the captain of the Washington Capitals, was glancing around at his team, gauging their reactions to Jackie. He had been especially attentive to his teammates as of late and was also determined to make sure the same horrible fate never befell one of his men and especially not on his watch that was for damn sure.

Nicklas Backstrom sat quietly in the back of the room in between the two best friends, Brooks Laich and Mike Green. Brooks and Mike muttered comments and nodded their heads here and there as Jackie spoke, but Nicklas was too busy admiring Jackie to hear everything she was saying. The woman was gorgeous: young, brunette with dark eyes and an olive complexion, not to mention a rocking body. Nicklas Backstrom tended to be a more shy, quiet kind of guy, especially when it came to women, unlike some of his other teammates, and preferred to keep his thoughts about the attractive P.I. to himself. John Carlson on the other hand, clearly did not.

"Damn the P.I.'s a babe," he muttered to Mike Green.

Mike nudged Carlson and grimaced at him, "Dude, shut up," he whispered, "Stop checkin' her out…this is serious."

Carlson shrugged, "I'm just saying…she's hot."

Nicklas Backstrom gave the rookie an annoyed glare and Carlson muttered something under his breath about them all having something up their butts.

"So with that said," continued Jackie, oblivious to the conversation in the back of the locker room, "I want to encourage all of you to feel free and comfortable to come to me about any concerns, issues or questions you may have. If you see something suspicious please report it immediately to me. All that you say to me will be in confidence and your name at no time will be revealed as the one who reported the information. I will leave my cell number and hotel number on the white board over here so please copy them down or put them in your phones. I'm on call twenty-four, seven so don't hesitate to call or text me at anytime."

Carlson nudged Mike again, "I'm so gonna get laid, dude."

"Would you shut up already?" hissed Brooks Laich from the other side of Nicklas Backstrom, his deep blue eyes flashing in annoyance.

"For real," agreed Mike Green under his breath, "She's a freaking professional, not some puck bunny."

Nicklas just rolled his eyes as he watched Jackie wave goodbye to all of them and leave the locker room. Despite the circumstances of her presence here…Nicklas wasn't complaining. In fact, he was actually quite pleased that she had been assigned to the Capitals. He was determined to talk to her…privately…away from the rookies like John Carlson. He hadn't had a real conversation with a woman in a long time…not since his last bad break up two years ago…and it was high time that he put himself back out on the market. And P.I. Jackie O'Brian might be just the kind of woman to help him get back in the game…

…

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	4. Hockey for Dummies

**Another update : ) This one was a study break for me haha! Enjoy!**

Jackie O'Brian settled herself down on the bleachers in the Kettler Iceplex, a cup of warm, fresh coffee between her hands. She had just finished talking to the Washington Capitals NHL team in their locker room and would now observe them practicing. Part of her assignment was to watch the players, get to know them personally and professionally, and then watch for signs of distress or unusual behavior as potential signs of another suicide/murder incident. In the process of all that, O'Brian was to keep an eye out for whatever and/or whoever was causing these incidents to occur.

It seemed a simple enough task: observe a group of men for a few weeks, or months or however long it took to solve the case, but for a woman who had never seen a single hockey game before in her life, it was quite the challenge. She made a mental note to stop by the local Barnes and Noble and pick up a few books about the sport for her reading pleasure when she wasn't watching the Capitals. She needed to brush up on the basics of hockey so she could get a better understanding of how the game was played and how the men who played the game tended to behave and live their lives.

Just then, a sharp cracking sound made Jackie jump in her seat. A puck had been flung into the glass that surrounded the rink, making a sharp, loud noise. Jackie looked out onto the ice and saw instantly who the shooter was. Alexander Ovechkin was laughing hysterically as he waved at her, his eyes dancing with amusement and satisfaction as he realized that he had scared her half to death. She gave Alex a playful glare and shook her head in mock disgust. From what little research she had done prior to arriving in D.C. she had learned that Ovechkin was quite the wild man. He was a partier, drinker and prankster and clearly was up to his usual antics this morning.

Jackie noticed several of Alex's teammates laughing at his little prank on the new girl and it made her smile a little. Despite the circumstances they were all in, at least the Capitals' captain was doing his best to keep the mood light and keep his team focused. Jackie had a feeling she'd be relying on the rambunctious Russian captain in the days and weeks to come.

Nicklas Backstrom found himself becoming easily distracted that morning. He kept glancing over at the stands where the private investigator was sitting, watching them warm up. He hadn't felt this attracted to a girl in a very long time and it was driving him insane. He tried to concentrate on his shots and skating drills but his mind and his eyes kept wandering.

"Hey, Nicky," said Mike Green with an amused smirk on his face as he skated over to his friend, "Why don't you try keeping your eyes on the puck instead of the pretty girl in the stands, eh?"

Nicklas shot Mike a glare and rolled his eyes as Mike laughed at him.

"Aw, don't be so sensitive, Nicky," said Mike with a mischievous grin on his face, "Even the best of us get distracted by a pretty girl once in awhile."

"Shut up," muttered Backstrom, trying to hide the smirk on his face.

Mike just laughed as he skated over to his best friend, Brooks Laich, and began running some one-on-one drills with him.

Nicklas glanced back up at Jackie O'Brian before he skated over to Ovechkin and Semin. He mentally told himself he would keep his mind in the rink and not on the detective…at least…as much as he could manage…

…

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" cried a very panicked-looking Sidney Crosby as he sat in the Pittsburgh Penguin's training room.

"I don't know," muttered Coach Dan Bylsma as he shook his head in disbelief, "Shit…I don't know what the _team's_ gonna do without you either."

Crosby shook his head in disbelief, his eyes wide and blank as he tried to comprehend what this news now meant for him. After sustaining a serious concussion back in early January, Sidney Crosby had been in an uphill battle trying to come back to the ice. He had managed to attend practices but the concussion symptoms kept returning with a vengeance, forcing him to leave the ice time and time again. After seeing several specialists and various doctors and undergoing a variety of treatments, the specialists and doctors had all arrived at one upsetting and very startling conclusion: Sidney Crosby's career in the NHL was over. His body was incapable of making a full recovery from his awful concussion so he was now being forced to hang up his skates for good.

The very thought of not playing hockey again made Crosby sick to his stomach. Hockey was his life…it was all that he knew…it was all that he loved. Without hockey there wasn't much point to his life anymore. He was still so young…early twenties…and now his stellar career was over…just like that. It wasn't fair…it was beyond unreasonable…it was utterly devastating. The fans were sure to be heartbroken and Crosby himself began to fall into a depression deeper than any he had ever known before.

"Where do I go?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion, "What do I do? What _can _I do?"

Coach Bylsma shook his head, his heart breaking at seeing the unbelievable pain in Crosby's eyes, "I don't know son…I really don't. But…I am going to send you to a psychiatrist. The guy's good…he was a doctor for many years and then moved into the psychiatry field. He specializes in sports medicine and helping professional players overcome their depression, anxiety and whatever else is going on. I think…I think it'd be a good idea if you started seeing him…at least for a little while until you can get your feet back under you again and figure things out."

Crosby nodded numbly, unable to form words. His heart was broken…his passion, his love, his _life_ had just been ripped out from under him. He had nothing left…

…

Jackie sat down in the Barnes and Noble late that evening with a cup of cappuccino. She had a small stack of books sitting on the table in front of her and reached for the one on top: Hockey For Dummies. She felt awkward reading the book just a mile away from the Capitals practice facility and their hometown, but she had to figure this sport out as soon as possible if she was to properly and efficiently complete her latest assignment. She flipped open to the first chapter and began reading.

Nicklas Backstrom walked into the Barnes and Noble and began to scan the aisles. Being a quieter, more introverted individual, Nicklas preferred books to people and Barnes and Noble to partying. While Ovechkin, Semin, Green, Laich, Carlson and the rest all went out to the club that night, he chose to spend his time in the quiet confines of his favorite book store.

As he walked up and down the aisles, scanning the shelves he had practically memorized over the past couple years, he glanced up at the adjoining Starbucks and froze. Sitting at a table all by herself was Jackie, the private investigator, reading a copy of…wait…was that Hockey for Dummies she was reading? Nicklas almost had to suppress a laugh as he saw her face, all scrunched up from concentration, as she studied the pages of the rather simple book. It made her look all the more attractive in a cute way to Nicklas.

Nicklas took a deep breath before he decided to walk over in her direction. People made him nervous, especially those he didn't know very well, but he had to talk to this woman. He couldn't explain why, but there was something about her he was so fascinated by and he knew the only way to figure out what it was he liked about her was to talk to her…despite the fact that it made his stomach flip over with apprehension.

Jackie felt someone walking in her direction and glanced up from her book. She smiled when she recognized Backstrom and laid her book down on the table to greet him.

"Nicklas Backstrom, right?" she asked as she stood and extended her hand.

Nicklas smiled a little crooked smile that Jackie thought was utterly adorable as he nodded, "Yeah…yeah I'm Nicklas. And you're Jackie…the investigator?"

Jackie nodded, loving the sound of his quiet, Swedish accent as she shook his hand and sat back down, gesturing for him to take the seat across from her. Backstrom settled in across from Jackie and glanced over at her book.

"So…Hockey for Dummies?" he asked, unable to suppress a smirk of amusement.

Jackie pretended to be insulted as she clutched the book to her chest, "Hey now…some of us aren't experts on this sport, okay?"

Nicklas laughed and put his hands up in mock surrender, "No problem…just making an observation," he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling as he gazed at her, "Mike Green played a joke on Brooks Laich once with that book…they were filming an episode of Caps Cribs and Mike planted the book in Brooks' apartment."

Jackie laughed at that, "I can him doing that…they're best friends right?"

Nicklas nodded, "Yeah…sometimes we think they're dating they're so close," he added as he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, "But you can't help but love them."

Jackie nodded in agreement as she gazed at Nicklas, "So…why aren't you hitting the town with the rest of the team? Isn't that what you guys do at night when you aren't playing?"

Nicklas shrugged and glanced away, "Nah, not really my thing…I prefer books…and quiet…not people."

Jackie gave Nicklas an understanding look, "I know what you mean. At the end of the day after being around people all day the last thing I want to do is go somewhere where there's a mass crowd of loud, drunk people."

"Exactly," said Nicklas, relieved that someone else finally understood his unique lifestyle, "So," he said shifting in his seat, "You know…I know a lot about the team and about hockey…and I don't have a life outside of the rink really…so if you wanted someone to help you out, you know, like figure out the sport and the guys on the team…I'd be willing to help."

Jackie smiled when she saw that Nicklas was blushing and looked somewhat embarrassed. It was absolutely precious and she felt her heart skip a beat, "I would love that!" she agreed excitedly, "I'm sure talking with you will be much more entertaining than this book."

Nicklas nodded at that as he glanced at the book again, "I'm not the most thrilling man in the world, but…I think I can beat that book."

They both laughed as Nicklas began to talk to Jackie about the guys on the team. He found himself for the first time, talking freely and openly with someone. It was refreshing and Nicklas found himself praying that this night, however simple it was, would never end…

…

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	5. Back from the Dead

**Study break #2 of the day haha! I'm procrastinating a bit…but it's all good : ) Enjoy!**

Jackie woke up early the next morning and hopped eagerly into her rental car. She smiled to herself as she pulled out of the parking garage under the hotel and began to drive toward the Kettler Iceplex. She had ended up spending over three hours last night in the Barnes and Noble with Nicklas Backstrom talking about everything from the team and the sport of hockey to Sweden and Backstrom's upbringing. She found herself talking about her past a little with him and was surprised to find how easy it was to open up to the young Swedish hockey player.

Jackie had even told him about her ex-fiancé who ended up cheating on her with her best friend. She had never discussed that with anyone…ever. She had stopped trusting people shortly after the incident occurred. Being stabbed in the back by the man you loved and the girl who was allegedly like a sister to you were more than enough reasons for having no desire to trust another human being again.

She recalled the look on Nicklas' face when she confessed that to him. He had looked so sad and his blue eyes narrowed with pain as he listened to how much Jackie had gone through. He couldn't imagine anyone being able to hurt a woman like her. Those emotions that crossed Nicklas' face had confirmed it for Jackie: he was a good man. And besides being a good man…he was incredibly attractive and his accent gave her goose bumps.

She mentally cursed herself for developing a crush already on one of the players. Hell she didn't even know that much about hockey and here she was, driving down to the Kettler Iceplex, mooning over some young, hot NHL player. It had been four years since she had opened up to anyone at all, much less a guy, but something about Nicklas practically screamed that she could trust him…and that both thrilled and terrified her all at once…

…

Nicklas Backstrom was just climbing out of his little red sports car when he saw Jackie pull up to the front of Kettler. He smiled and gave her a little wave as she parked next to him. His heart skipped a beat as she stepped out of the car, a huge smile on her face, brown eyes alight with joy at seeing him. She was wearing a beautiful little red dress with black heels and it made his heart flutter. Although, he could see her in a red Caps sweatshirt and lounge pants, all curled up reading a book too…that image made his heart skip an entire beat. Nicklas allowed himself for just a moment to imagine her wearing his jersey but had to push that image aside…he didn't need to get himself all worked up right before practice.

"Good morning," said Nicklas as he walked over to her car.

"Hey," chirped Jackie as she grabbed her bag from the back seat of her little rental Civic, "How are you?"

"Tired," said Backstrom with a little sideways smirk, "This really pretty, nice woman kept me up late last night at a bookstore talking about hockey."

Jackie felt herself blush at that, "Oh really? She must be pretty great to keep a dedicated player like yourself up so late."

"Oh she is," assured Nicklas, blushing himself as he held out his arm to escort her into Kettler.

"Holy shit," said Mike Green as he and Brooks Laich climbed out of Mike's white Lamborghini, "Nicky got the girl."

Brooks smiled broadly at that and chuckled a little, "Good for him…that kid could use a good woman in his life anyway. Although Carlson will be upset…doesn't look like he'll be getting that one night stand after all."

Mike laughed as the two best friends followed Nicklas and Jackie into the Kettler Iceplex for that morning's training session. That evening, the Capitals were going to face their archrivals: the Pittsburgh Penguins. It was imperative that they get a good practice in beforehand…the last thing they wanted was to lose to the Penguins on the Capitals' home ice…

…

_The Previous Day…_

"Pills?" asked Crosby, looking confused as he gazed at his new psychiatrist, "I mean…that's great they'll take the pain away, but that doesn't help my other issue."

The psychiatrist gazed at Sidney Crosby with a sympathetic smile on his face as he leaned forward, "Sid…I understand you are going through a rough time right now. It's not an easy transition at all, but we take things one step at a time. Taking these pills regularly will keep the pain away and help you to think clearly about the decisions you are going to be making soon."

Crosby frowned as he studied the pills, "Oh…okay."

The psychiatrist hesitated for a moment before he spoke again, "Well…actually, there is something you could do now that would benefit us both."

Crosby gave the doctor a confused look, "Yeah? I'll do anything…I just need something…you know?"

The man nodded and closed his eyes briefly as if deeply moved by Crosby's current condition, "I understand completely. You see…there are other players suffering from terrible injuries like yourself that could benefit from my treatments. Perhaps you could maybe help me out with that?"

"Um, sure," said Crosby, not sure where this conversation was going, "What do I need to do?"

"I need you to help distribute some pills for me...they're like the ones I gave you but a little different," said the doctor with a kind smile, "They help with depression, anxiety and pain. All you have to do is convince some of the players in the league to take the pills and that's it. There's a million dollars in it for you per player you recruit."

Crosby raised an eyebrow at that. A million dollars? Who the hell pays a million dollars to distribute pills to hockey players? What was this guy up to? Crosby felt a mental red flag pop up in his mind. Something wasn't right here…who was this guy? What kind of gig was he running here?

"I'm sorry but…it sounds slightly illegal," said Crosby hesitantly, "What's in these pills and why do you want me to give them to people? And…how do you have that much money?"

The man smiled coyly as he leaned in closer, "Listen close Sidney and I'll explain everything…"

…

Evgeni Malkin was working out in the gym in D.C. with some of his fellow Penguin's teammates. They had all arrived in town early that morning and were now gearing up for the big game. In a couple hours they would head to Kettler to use the Capitals complex for their practice session, but in the meantime Malkin and some of the other Penguins decided to lift some weights and do some resistance training.

Malkin sighed sadly as he thought about Crosby. It was devastating for him to lose his best friend and captain like this. He missed Crosby's goofy antics and the jokes he'd crack while they all worked out together. It just wasn't the same without him around anymore. Crosby was back in Pittsburgh seeing some shrink their coach had found while Malkin was here preparing for a huge game. It just wasn't fair. Hell it sucked.

Just then the gym doors opened and a man came strolling in with a cocky smile on his face.

"SID!" shouted Malkin in disbelief as he dropped some weights and practically bowled his best friend over in excitement, "What are you doing here? Damn it's like…it's like you're back from the dead!"

Crosby laughed as he hugged his best friend, "It's only been a day, Geno…and besides, I wouldn't miss this game for the world," he said, his eyes glittering with an almost bitter, dark look in them.

Malkin took a step back and gazed at Crosby, "Something's…something's different. You okay?"

Crosby smiled a coy smile, "Oh trust me, Geno…everything's going to be just fine…I promise…"

…

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	6. Suspicious Behavior

_Had time to update today! Hope you enjoy! Review and tell me what you think!_

**Later that day…**

Steven Stamkos was not feeling like himself at all these days. Every day he found that it was a battle just to climb out of bed. He had suffered a pulled hamstring about a week ago and the pain just wouldn't go away, but that wasn't what was at the heart of his problem. No…he found himself suffering from what he thought was the beginnings of depression. But that didn't make sense…he had nothing to be depressed about. So he'd miss a couple games, so what? It's not like that's never happened before…so what was with all these feelings of sadness and lack of motivation?

Stamkos shook his head in frustration. He didn't have time for this. His team, the Tampa Bay Lightning, was waiting for him at their practice facility. Despite his inability to play due to his injury, Stamkos still wanted to do his part and support his team. Maybe Coach would even let him do a little light skating? That would perk him up a bit…being on the ice always did.

He reached over toward his nightstand and picked up a little bottle of pills. It was a new drug…prescription from some new shrink-type doctor who claimed to be some sort of expert who was trying to help NHL players, especially with all the deaths that had been going on lately. Stamkos' coach had received a call from this so-called-new-fangled-expert a few days ago, requesting that Stamkos sign up for his little program. They figured it was worth a shot, but so far nothing was getting better. The doctor had assured him it was a process and that he just needed to be patient and take the pills as directed.

Stamkos shrugged as he studied the bottle then flipped open the lid and shook out two pills, praying that these things would start working as soon as possible…

…

**That evening…**

The Verizon Center in downtown D.C. was buzzing with excitement as the Washington Capitals entered into the final period of their big game against arch rivals, the Pittsburgh Penguins. So far the score was tied, three to three, and things were getting tense as the clock ticked away. The hits came more frequently and with more intensity as the game wore on. Mike Knuble collided with Matt Cooke and the two players fell hard on the ice. Ovechkin skated hard to scoop up the loose puck and rescue his friend and teammate. Backstrom accepted a pass from Ovechkin and the team began charging down toward the other end of the rink.

Jackie O'Brian was pacing behind the bench along with the coaching staff. She had been granted permission to stay behind the bench during the games so that she could keep a closer eye on the players and hear their conversations. She felt a little guilty for spying on them like this, but it was part of the assignment. The players didn't seem to mind and even joked with her or gave her suggestive winks as they came and went from the bench.

"So Nicky stole my one night stand eh?" asked a disappointed looking Carlson as he leaned over to Mike Green.

Green snickered, "Dude you never had a shot…but yeah he's all over this one. Let him have her, rookie…he deserves to be happy."

Carlson rolled his eyes and sighed, "He can have her…I just wanted one night."

"You're a whore," smirked Mike as he ducked just clear of Carlson's fist.

"Knock it off!" barked Coach Boudreau, "Stay focused, none of that horseshit!"

"Sorry," mumbled Mike Green and Carlson as they turned to look out over the ice where Ovechkin was battling with Evgeni Malkin for the puck.

Jackie glanced over at the Penguin's bench and blinked in surprise. Sidney Crosby had just made an appearance just behind the bench, wearing a suite and an almost amused smile on his face as he talked with the coach.

"Can he do that?" asked Jackie as she spoke to Boudreau.

Boudreau frowned in annoyance as he glanced over at the Penguins' bench, "I guess…not like it matters. The kid doesn't play anymore. Don't know why he's here…but if he wants to watch his team's ass get kicked that's okay with me."

Jackie nodded slightly, her eyes still narrowed in a mixture of suspicion and curiosity as she observed the old Penguins' captain interact with his teammates and coaching staff. Something wasn't right…she couldn't put her finger on it…but something just wasn't right, she could feel it…like the calm before the storm.

Crosby glanced up and saw her studying him. Jackie felt her heart skip a beat with embarrassment as she realized he knew she was staring at him. He gave her a polite wave and a kind smile, his eyes warm and gentle as he gazed at her. She returned the gesture and then turned away, shaking her head in annoyance. She was becoming one of those paranoid P.I.'s…she needed to focus on her team and the game, not Sidney Crosby.

Just then, Matt Cooke slammed into Nicklas Backstrom out of nowhere, ramming him head-first into the boards. Jackie cried out in fear and shock as the referee's blew their whistles to stop play.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Jackie, her voice raised to a shriek as she screamed, "He didn't even have the puck!" Although she didn't know much about hockey quite yet, she knew enough to know that you can't just hit someone like that randomly and for no reason. That was a clear-cut boarding call and even she could call that one.

Nicklas Backstrom lay in a crumpled heap on the ice, clutching his head as Smith, a.k.a. "Bad News Smitty" rushed out onto the ice. The team's medic bent down over Nicklas and began talking to him while the rest of the team waited with baited breath to see if their star center would be okay.

Meanwhile, Matt Cooke glanced back over at the Penguin's bench and nodded toward Sidney Crosby. Crosby nodded curtly back and gave him a little smile before he turned and disappeared from the bench, a quiet almost smug smile on his face as he walked out of the Verizon Center…

…

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	7. Closer

**Sorry for the long wait…school's been crazy busy…thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Author's Note: Again this is a FICTIONAL story so depictions of players and their loved ones are not 100 percent like they are in real life. Just a reminder!**

_Three Days Later…_

Steven Stamkos was beyond depressed…beyond angry…and beyond tired of feeling this shitty. He had no desire to climb out of bed that morning. It as if he had lost all desire to do anything really. It was scary…terrifying really…to not be able to come up with one single reason to continue trying. He couldn't play hockey for at least another few weeks, if not a few months, so what was the point? It wasn't like he was good for much else, right? That's what his girlfriend had said the day after his injury as she broke up with him…that's what his dad had said his whole childhood. If he couldn't play hockey then there wasn't much point to his existence.

Stamkos frowned at those dark thoughts as he fumbled for those special little pills, eager for a quick fix of those pain meds that made everything seem so much easier to deal with…

…

Jackie O'Brian was pissed. Three days ago Nicklas Backstrom had been hit from behind, went headfirst into the boards, and had sustained a nasty concussion. Now he was lying in his bed in his apartment in Arlington, Virginia while Jackie paced back and forth in the room, seething with rage.

"Jackie," said Nicklas as he watched her, "It's okay…I'm okay. It'll all be fine…please stop pacing."

Jackie glanced over at Nicklas briefly before she continued to pace, "No it's not okay," she growled, "Cooke new that was a dirty play…he had a smirk on his face…and that asshole Crosby left right after you got hurt. He showed up, stayed just long enough for you to get hurt and then left. Something's up…something's just not right about this. My instincts are telling me that there's more to this than just a dirty Matt Cooke play."

Nicklas frowned at that. He didn't like seeing Jackie all torn up because of him. She'd been doing this ever since he got hurt three nights ago. She would pace the room for awhile, jot down notes in one of her notebooks, call the FBI and request updates, then check on him…in that order…on repeat…for three days.

He watched her pace for a few more moments, appreciating her slender frame as she moved about the room. At least there was one perk to this whole being-on-bed-rest-thing…at least he had Jackie around all the time…all to himself.

Jackie felt Nicklas watching her and glanced over at him. She blushed when she caught him giving her a head-to-toe glance. That boy made her heart flutter…and not many men were capable of such a difficult task. She was more of the heartbreaker type herself: date a guy, go out for drinks, hit the sack, then tell him to hit the road. She was never satisfied and always wanted something more. But no guy had ever made her heart stop with just a single look the way Nicklas did. Those killer blue eyes stopped her in her tracks every time.

Nicklas smiled appreciatively as he noted her reaction. At least the feelings were mutual. It gave him enough confidence to pat the empty space on the bed next to him and give her an imploring look.

"Come here," he said in an almost gravelly voice, "Sit…you've been pacing for three days. You need a break."

Jackie felt her heart hammer wildly in her chest as she bit her lower lip nervously. She took a hesitant step forward and then sank down on the bed next to Nicklas. He smiled encouragingly as she climbed in next to her. Nicklas pulled her a little closer and Jackie got a little brave. She scooted against him and laid her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his chest as she sighed in contentment, much to Nicklas' delight.

In that moment, Nicklas Backstrom was convinced that life didn't get any better than this…

…

"Good work," growled the doctor as Sidney Crosby slunk into his office, "Backstrom's down for the count, eh?"

Crosby swallowed nervously. The man made him nervous…hell, he terrified him. But he couldn't show it…that would make everything that much worse. He had to be brave, confident and show resolve or his act would fall apart and he would find himself in the same predicament that some of the other NHL superstars were finding themselves in.

"Once he gets treatment I want you to work on Ovechkin and Laich," grumbled the doctor, "Your Penguins play the Capitals again in a week…make it happen. Get Matt Cooke and maybe your best friend Malkin on the job too."

Crosby's eyes grew wide at that. The last thing he wanted was to involve his best friend in on this. He was too good of a person for this kind of work.

"I…I'd rather leave Malkin out of this," he said hesitantly, his confidence breaking ever so slightly.

The doctor glowered down at Crosby, "Is your loyalty wavering, Sidney? Do I need to…dispose of you and find a new right hand man?"

Crosby felt his heart skip several beats as terror gripped him. He knew what this man was capable of. And he didn't want to stop this…he wanted justice. There was no justice for him when he sustained his terrible concussion and lost his contract with the NHL. No one paid for the unfairness that was done to him…no he was just thrown out on the streets. Well, not anymore. No…Sidney Crosby would have his perfect revenge.

Crosby's eyes hardened as he looked up at the doctor, "No…I want to do this. I'll get Cooke and Talbott…they'll do the dirty work."

The doctor smiled an almost sadistic, evil smile as he nodded in appreciation of Crosby's fury. Anger was a perfect sort of fuel to keep the fire burning…and Crosby's resentment, jealousy and feelings of injustice were just perfect to keep him on the job.

"Good…now get out of my office," snarled the doctor suddenly, "I have a phone call to make…the Capitals need to know about a doctor who specializes in helping hockey players deal with their debilitating injuries."

Crosby nodded curtly as he turned to leave the office. His eyes were hard with anger but had a slight glint of pleasure in them. His anger and burning desire for revenge were being fulfilled thanks to the Good Doctor. It felt good…hell it felt amazing. It was almost like being on a bizarre high, an adrenalin rush…and he never wanted this feeling to go away…

…

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	8. In Over His Head

**Yeaaah don't feel like doing work…so here's another update : ) enjoy!**

**Author's Note: Just a reminder, any and all players who "die" in this story are indeed still ALIVE I promise! Don't panic…it's just a story : ) lol **

_Two Days Later…_

The Washington Capitals had traveled down to Tampa Bay, Florida early that morning in preparation for their next game against the Lightning. The mood was light as the Capitals were assigned their hotel rooms and began to settle in for the afternoon until it was time to head to the rink to practice before the game.

Jackie O'Brian followed Nicklas Backstrom to his room, under the guise of helping him with his luggage which consisted of one large suitcase and one small bag. Nicklas didn't mind it at all and was actually quite pleased that they were heading to his room alone. Some of the team began to snicker and crack jokes under their breath as they watched the two walk down the hotel hall way.

"Looks like Nicky's gonna get laid before you do, Johnnie," sneered Brooks Laich with an arrogant little grin.

John Carlson shot a glare in Brooks' direction and muttered something about life not being fair. Mike Green laughed openly at the young rookie as he and Brooks exchanged their little secret handshake.

"Least I'm not gay like you two," grumbled Carlson as he moved to walk down the hall away from the two best friends.

Mike and Brooks exchanged a glance before they both nodded and leapt on Carlson at the same time. The rookie hit the floor and cried out in surprise as he realized he was on the bottom of a Brooks and Mike dog-pile.

Neuvirth, the Capitals net minder, stuck his head out of his room and looked down the hall. The second he saw Green and Laich torturing the rookie he eagerly joined in along with Matt Hendricks and Jason Chimera. Alex Ovechkin and Alex Semin heard all the commotion and quickly joined in on the pile up. Semin said something excitedly in Russian before he dive bombed the pile, causing the rest of the team to groan and cry out in complaint. Ovechkin plopped down on the top with a gleeful grin while Carlson cried out for mercy.

"Guys, really?" asked Jackie as she emerged from Nicklas' room after hearing all the screaming and yelling in the hall, "You're gonna kill the kid!"

Backstrom gave his teammates an annoyed glare. He was just about to make a move on the sexy detective when everyone decided to be stupid…figures.

The team slowly clambered off of the very squished and very unhappy John Carlson. The rookie stood up slowly and stretched out his sore body, glaring around at his "friends" before he stomped off to his room, much to the team's amusement.

Jackie rolled her eyes at all of them, a little smirk playing on her lips as she turned back to Backstrom and slipped back into his room. Nicklas closed the door behind her and quietly locked it behind him. He didn't want any more disturbances.

"Thanks for helping me carry my stuff," said Nicklas, suddenly feeling nervous and unsure of himself.

Jackie smiled at his discomfort, finding his shy, nervous ways incredibly attractive, "Any time, Nicky," she said, using his favorite nickname.

Nicklas felt his heart hammering in his chest as he took a step toward Jackie. She could see his intentions in his eyes before he even touched her. She stood still, letting him come to her, as he slowly reached up for her face, stroking her jaw lightly with two fingers before he leaned in and kissed her. He was hesitant at first, not sure how she would react, but was pleasantly surprised when she kissed him back. Instantly he was lost in Jackie, her scent, her hair, her touch, her taste…everything else just faded to black…

…

Steven Stamkos was done. He had had enough. He couldn't feel this way anymore. The pills weren't working…they weren't doing anything besides stopping his pain and if he didn't take enough of them he'd start shaking uncontrollably. What the hell was happening to him? Why did he feel like this? What the hell was going on?

His world was spinning wildly out of control and it felt like there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing…nothing would fix this. It was time to end it…end all the pain, the anguish, the feelings of depression and listlessness. He couldn't even bring himself to climb out of bed any more. He couldn't live like this any longer. He had tried to get help…he went to that shrink guy to help him manage his pain and keep his spirits up while he was out of the game, but nothing had changed…in fact…things had only gotten worse. And the more of those pills he took…it seemed the worse he felt. But if he didn't take them he felt like dying…like taking his own life.

Out of sheer anger and frustration, Stamkos opened the window of his apartment and tossed the pill bottle out. He watched it fall all eight stories down and fall apart as it hit the concrete below. He felt a sudden wetness on his cheek and realized in surprise that he was crying. What the hell was this shit?

Stamkos whirled around and slammed his fist into the wall. It went clean through, leaving a gaping hole near the headboard of his bed. He stared at it with eyes that looked like he was already dead. Dead…that's what he felt like…dead. He had no emotions but despair and anger…he had no desire to do anything ever again. He had never felt this way before in his life. He couldn't handle this anymore…it was too much…everything was too much.

Stamkos started panting as his heart raced with panic. Everything was spinning…he needed those pills…the pills…the ones he threw out the window…shit. He ran over to the window and flung it open again, leaned over the edge and looked down at the street. The pills were gone…where the hell had they gone? Now what the hell was he supposed to do?

Then it hit him…he was eight stories up…a fall from here would kill him. A fall from eight stories up onto solid concrete…that would end everything. That's what he needed to do…he needed to end this…he had to end this…and it had to end NOW.

…

Jackie was on cloud nine. All of her senses were heightened as Nicklas ran his hands expertly over her slender body. She moaned softly as his lips found all of her sensitive areas, fully relishing in this gorgeous man's touch. He looked up at her and they made eye-contact. Those kind blue eyes looked lovingly up at her and Jackie realized with a jolt that she was falling hard for this beautiful Swedish boy.

Just then, Jackie's cell phone rang…her work phone. She sat up quickly and Nicklas moved out of the way so she could grab the phone.

"I'm so sorry," she said to Nicklas with a frustrated sigh, "But…I have to take this."

Nicklas just smiled in amusement at her apology. They'd already made love three times…if they had to take a little break for a phone call that was fine by him. He just winked at her and lay back on the pillows with a contented sigh.

"Investigator O'Brian, Washington Capitals," she said as she answered the call.

"O'Brian, this is Matt McCullahan, I'm the P.I. with the Tampa Bay Lighting."

"Oh," said Jackie in surprise, glancing back at Nicklas, "Is everything okay?"

"I'm afraid not, Ms. O'Brian," said the man with a devastated sigh, "Steven Stamkos…is…dead."

…

Please Review!

(I'm sorry for "killing" Stamkos! It hurt me too…I love that man! Don't hate me! Lol)


	9. The Good Doctor

**Sorry for the delayed update…busy as always here! Anyways, enjoy! (Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end!)**

Jackie dropped the cell phone, her eyes wide with shock. Nicklas sat up quickly and put an arm around her.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice hard and tense with worry. He could tell from the expression on Jackie's face that something serious had happened. She wouldn't react this way otherwise.

Jackie turned around slowly to face Nicklas, her face a mask of shock and disbelief, "It's…its Stamkos," she murmured quietly.

Nicklas furrowed his brow at that, "What about him?"

Jackie took in a long, shuddering breath before she replied, "He's…he's dead."

…

Jackie stepped under the yellow crime scene tape and approached the area where the medical examiner was closing up the body bag that now contained Steven Stamkos. A couple uniformed officers moved to stop her but she whipped out her badge and they quickly backed off.

Nicklas stood on the other side of the tape, watching nervously as Jackie approached the medical examiner and began to ask questions. This whole thing was so overwhelming. What the hell was going on? What happened that made Stamkos want to end his own life? He was one of the most promising players in the NHL and now he was zipped up in a body bag.

Mike Green, Alex Ovechkin and Brooks Laich came up behind Nicklas and gave each other sympathetic and scared looks.

"We came as soon as we heard," murmured Brooks quietly, placing a hand on Nicklas' shoulder.

"This is awful," muttered Mike, shaking his head sadly, his deep brown eyes full of despair, "Steven was such a great guy…what the hell is going on here?"

"I don't know," growled Ovechkin in a deep, Russian accent, "But if I find person who do this to players…I going to kill him."

"Count me in," said Brooks, his eyes flashing dangerously as he imagined himself face to face with whoever was responsible for these untimely deaths.

Nicklas stood quietly listening to his friends, his mind traveling back to Steven Stamkos and remembering the player and the man he once was. Stamkos wasn't the kind of guy to get depressed or upset easily…this wasn't just a case of severe depression…no way in hell. There was something much more sinister going on here and he prayed to God that Jackie would figure it out and soon.

"Ms. O'Brian?"

"Yes?" asked Jackie hesitantly as she turned to face a rather attractive blonde man in a three piece suit.

"Hi, I'm Matt McCullahan, P.I. with Tampa Bay," he said, his voice low and his eyes darting about as he spoke to her.

"Ah, yes, Mr. McCullahan," said Jackie as she shook his hand, "What have you gathered so far?"

Matt took a step closer to Jackie and began to murmur in her ear so that everyone else around them couldn't hear, "The last thing I knew was that he was taking these pills…"

"What pills?" interrupted Jackie.

"Special ones…for pain. He got hurt in a game and this doctor came out of nowhere offering to help him recover."

Jackie's eyes narrowed at that, "Doctor? What kind of doctor are we talking about?"

"Sport medicine…psychiatrist type of guy," muttered Matt as he leaned in, "He started seeing Stamkos and prescribing these pills…gave them to him directly. Steven started acting weird shortly after he started taking the pills. We all assumed it was part of the treatment, that he was just depressed that he couldn't play…didn't think much of it."

Jackie could tell by the way the man's voice kept cracking with emotion that he blamed himself for Stamkos' death. She placed a comforting hand on his arm and gave him a sympathetic look.

"Don't blame yourself," she whispered, "We're all at a loss right now…this wasn't your fault or anyone else's. We'll get to the bottom of this."

Matt nodded sadly, "Yeah…yeah but we were too late for…for Steven."

Jackie leaned in and gave the detective a slight, comforting hug, much to Nicklas Backstrom's disdain.

Mike noted Nicklas' muscles tightening as he shifted anxiously from one foot to the other. Despite their circumstances, Mike couldn't help but poke fun at his friend.

"Looks like your girlfriend found herself a new boy-toy," he muttered with a smirk.

Nicklas cast a glare in Mike's direction, "Shut up…I hate you."

"Nah, Nicky way sexier than detective," said Ovechkin with a goofy grin, "He pretty boy…detective not pretty like Nicky."

"You're so gay," laughed Mike quietly, shaking his head.

"This coming from you," retorted Ovechkin, "You and boyfriend Brooksy here…you no room to talk."

Brooks shot glares at both of them, "Knock it off you two, be serious. Steven Stamkos is dead and one of us could be next."

That sobered Mike and Alex up immediately. All four players grew eerily quiet as they watched the investigators talk and the medical and police teams finish cleaning up the scene.

"Sounds like we need to get a hold of this doctor," said Jackie, "Get me his information…contact information, location, everything you've got. You go talk to the team, management, coaches, everyone involved with the Lightning, see if you can get anything from them about this guy. I'm going to see if I can pay the good doctor a visit and ask him a few questions."

"Might want to see if any of the other investigators know about this guy too," suggested Matt, "See if he's given these pills or other treatments to other players."

Jackie nodded, frowning slight as she sighed, "Yeah…I just hope we're barking up the right tree…that or we're wasting our time and whoever or whatever is causing this is out there gallivanting while we're hunting down an innocent doctor."

Matt nodded in understanding, "Part of the job…gotta run with our instincts and go with our gut…and my gut's telling me the doc isn't on the up and up."

"Same," murmured Jackie, "Get me that info…send it to my email address. I'll get on it right away."

"Will do," said Matt as he shook hands with Jackie and then walked off to talk to a couple officers.

Jackie sighed as she watched the scene being cleaned up around her. She flashed back to when Nicklas was injured by Matt Cooke…and Sidney Crosby showed up just in time to watch it happen. Nicklas was now injured…but no one had contacted them about any special treatment procedures, not yet anyway. She frowned at that and turned to head over to where the Capitals players were waiting on the other side of the police crime scene tape.

"Have you gotten any calls from a doctor?" asked Jackie as soon as she approached Nicklas.

Nicklas furrowed his brow in confusion, "No…why?"

"Just…if you do, please tell me before you agree to see him, okay?" asked Jackie, her eyes troubled.

The four hockey players exchanged confused looks.

"Do you think it's a doctor doing this?" asked Mike, his eyes wide with horror at the thought.

"I don't know," muttered Jackie, "I have a couple hunches…two things that just aren't adding up…but I can't discuss those until I've verified one or both of them. Just if any of you hears from a doctor please tell me immediately. I'm going to call McPhee, Leonsis and Boudreau and tell them the same thing…then I'm calling the doctor who was treating Stamkos for his injury."

Nicklas' blue eyes sparkled with worry at that, "Is he dangerous?"

Jackie shrugged, "I don't know…could be just a doctor…could be a coincidence…or he could be more than that. I need to talk to him and figure that out myself."

Jackie saw the worried expression on Nicklas' face and smiled at his obvious concern.

"I'll be careful, I promise," she said softly, "I was trained for this…this is what I live for. Trust me, I'll be careful."

Nicklas sighed, knowing there was nothing more he could really say to stop her from doing her job, "Okay...if you say so."

Jackie smiled as she leaned up and gave Nicklas a peck on the lips, eliciting catcalls and comments from the peanut gallery, "I say so," she whispered as she stared into his ice blue eyes, knowing now she had a whole new reason to be extra careful…

…

After contacting the Washington Capitals management team and informing them of her suspicions, Jackie checked her email in the hotel and was pleasantly surprised to see that Matt McCullahan had already forwarded her the doctor's phone number. She picked up the hotel phone and dialed the number.

Almost instantly a computer picked up the call, "We're sorry…the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected…"

Jackie felt her heart sink to the floor and a cold feeling of dread stabbed into her gut as she realized what this meant…

The Doctor was guilty…he had to be…there was no other reasonable explanation…he was on the move…on his way to his next target…his next victim…

…

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	10. Regret

_Three Days Later…_

Sidney Crosby felt his gut clench again for the third time that morning. He ran into the bathroom and vomited up whatever was left of his last meal, feeling god-awful and wishing it was he who was dead and not Steven Stamkos. What the hell had he gotten himself into? This wasn't what he had wanted…Stamkos had never done anything to him…never hurt him…never pissed him off even. Hell he was one of the most innocent men in the NHL and now he was dead…because of him.

"Sidney!" growled The Doctor as Crosby emerged from the restroom, "Get your ass in here you pussy!"

Crosby flinched at The Doctor's harsh tone. He hated weakness and him throwing up in the bathroom was the epitome of weakness in The Doctor's eyes.

"Yeah I'm coming," muttered Crosby weakly as he slid into The Doctor's office and sank down on one of the small leather chairs.

"Are you cracking on me, kid?" snarled The Doctor, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Crosby felt his heart skip a beat as he gazed up at The Doctor and shook his head feverishly, "No…no sir, I'm sorry…I just…I liked Stamkos."

"Fuck you!" roared The Doctor, "He asked for it…they all did…even you, Crosby! Be grateful I chose you to work for me or you'd be dead too asshole!"

Crosby was trembling in fear now. The Doctor was getting into more and more of these violent, angry moods and they were absolutely terrifying. Crosby began to fear that he would end up being the victim of one of these awful moods one day…and he'd end up just like all the other dead NHL players. Just that thought made Crosby's stomach churn with dread and regret. He had dug himself into a hole he feared that he would never be able to climb back out of ever again. Why had he agreed to this? All he wanted was to unleash his anger…get rid of the fury that ebbed and flowed under the surface of his mind after he had been forbidden to ever play in the NHL again…he never wanted things to get this bad.

The Doctor took several deep breaths before he spoke to Crosby again, "Now…if you think you can handle it…you have a new assignment.

Crosby felt his heart clench with dread as he waited to hear which innocent player would be the next victim of The Doctor…of his. He knew it had to be Brooks Laich or Nicklas Backstrom…The Doctor had mentioned them earlier. He knew The Doctor wanted them dead.

"Yeah…yeah I can handle it," he stammered, his stomach clenching in pain as he tried to hide his trembling hands.

"Good," said The Doctor coolly as he leaned forward, "Because your next target is Nicklas Backstrom…and Brooks Laich."

Crosby's heart fluttered in shock, "What? Two of them? Why?"

The Doctor's eyes hardened dangerously as he glared at Crosby, "Who are you to question my decisions?" he snarled, "Yes both of them! They're on the same team it shouldn't be too hard…and Backstrom's already suffering from a concussion so I'll deal with him. All I need you to do is to make sure Brooks Laich suffered a debilitating injury so we can get him on the pills too. Get Cooke or Talbott to do the dirty work. You play the Capitals in two days. Get to work, Sidney."

Sidney Crosby stood up numbly and left The Doctor's office. Backstrom and Laich's fates had already been decided. There was nothing he could do now…or he would die too…

…

Jackie O'Brian was distraught. She was at a complete loss. Just like that the trail had gone cold. Three days had passed since she had tried to call the man who was claiming to be some kind of doctor and no news had surfaced. It was almost as if he had completely disappeared off the face of the earth. What the hell?

Nicklas frowned when he saw Jackie pacing back and forth on the second floor of the Kettler Iceplex, overlooking the practice rink where the Capitals were warming up for their morning skate. He walked over to her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

Jackie turned around, jumping a little at the unexpected touch, but then smiled faintly when she saw who it was. She leaned into Nicklas' outstretched arms and let him just hold her like that for a moment.

"You okay?" asked Nicklas in his sweet, Swedish accent.

Jackie sighed wearily, "Honestly, no…I can't figure this out. I know there's a connection…between this doctor and something I saw a while back," she answered, referring to the strange appearance of Sidney Crosby at the Capitals game a while back.

Nicklas frowned at her answer, wishing she would tell him what that thing was that she had seen a while back was. She had to keep it to herself, however, to protect the investigation, he knew that…but it was so hard to watch her suffer like this. He could tell she was letting this eat her alive inside and it was killing him to watch it happen.

"You should be out there," muttered Jackie, an angry glint in her eyes as she thought back to when Matt Cooke slammed into Nicklas for no reason at all, giving him a concussion and throwing him out of the next several games.

Nicklas gave her an encouraging smile and shrugged, "Shit happens…its okay. I'm fine…it hurts a bit, but it's okay. I'm a big boy, I'll live."

Jackie smirked at that, "Yeah, I know...still…you should be out there with your teammates."

"They'll just have to work twice as hard to make up for my absence," smirked Nicklas with a fake, arrogant tone.

Jackie rolled her eyes as she leaned back into Nicklas' embrace, wishing this would all just end so she could move on with her life…and maybe start one with Nicklas…

…

Please Review!

(I'm writing another update next so I apologize for the slightly abrupt ending…no worries give me a bit and there will be another chapter!)


	11. The Pieces Fall in Place

George McPhee sat in his office at the Verizon Center a few days later, browsing through some paperwork before the big Pittsburgh game, when he got a phone call from a private number. He frowned for a moment at the caller ID and then hesitantly picked up the phone.

"McPhee," he mumbled into the phone, sighing with annoyance at whoever was interrupting his work.

"Mr. McPhee," said a rather happy-sounding gentleman, "Hello, sir. I hear one of your players has suffered from a concussion recently?"

McPhee frowned at that, "What's that to you?"

"I apologize, I should have introduced myself," laughed the man good-naturedly, "I'm a doctor…I specialize in sports medicine and I've begun to reach out into the hockey community lately and I've experienced quite a bit of success with several different teams already. I thought Nicklas Backstrom may be in need of my services…"

McPhee interrupted the man, alarm bells ringing in his head as he remembered Jackie's warning about receiving calls from a doctor, "Um, no sir, we're fine…Backstrom's receiving treatment from our staff here, thank you for calling though."

He hung up before the man could reply and took a deep, shaky breath before he picked the receiver up again and called Jackie O'Brian…

…

The Doctor was furious. McPhee had just hung up on him without hearing him out…the asshole. Never mind him. He'd just have to do this in a more underhanded way…that's what he had to do with others in the past…deliver the pills to their door himself. That was fine by him. But first…there was Brooks Laich to deal with. He decided to let Sidney and his friends deal with Brooks then he'd try to call again. If they didn't listen to him then, he'd have Sidney deliver the pills himself…have Crosby pull the "I have concussion issues and these pills are like magic" card. Yes…that's just what he'd do.

Everything would work out in the end…even if he had to use unconventional methods…Brooks Laich and Nicklas Backstrom would be dead by the end of the month…that was a guarantee...

…

Jackie had just arrived at the Verizon Center in downtown D.C. when she got the call from McPhee on her cell phone.

"Jackie I got a call from a doctor," said McPhee hurriedly into the phone, "He was offering his services to Nicky…for some pills…for his concussion."

Jackie felt her blood turn to ice in that moment. She knew instantly that her instincts had been right. There was something about the doctor that just didn't add up. Every time an NHL player was hurt, he was right there, offering his services. She had done some research earlier that day and noted that all the players who had died thus far had died from either mixing pain killers with alcohol or commiting suicide. But the one consistant factor in all of the suspicious deaths was the fact that every player had traces of a very strong pain killer, most likely a form of oxycodone, in their systems.

"Shit," she muttered into the phone, "What'd you do? What'd you tell him?"

"I told him we didn't need his services and hung up," said McPhee, his voice unusually nervous and fearful, "Was that right? Was that okay?"

Jackie was trembling as she replied, "Uh, yeah…yeah that's fine. Um, let's keep this between us until after the game, okay? I don't want Nicky stressing out about this while he's watching the boys play. We'll talk to him about it afterwards, okay?"

"Yeah, I agree…yeah okay," said McPhee with a partially relieved sigh, "Alright…yeah, okay go do what you gotta do. I'll talk to you both after the game."

"Yeah, and McPhee?"

"Yeah?"

Jackie's voice trembled slightly, "Keep an eye on Nicky okay? He'll be sitting up in your box with you tonight…I'll be with the team behind the bench. Just…just watch him for me."

"I will, Jackie," said McPhee solemnly, "I promise."

Jackie ended the call and took in a deep, steadying breath as she tried to hide her shock and horror before she joined the team in the locker room. The Doctor had just made this personal…

…

Jackie paced anxiously behind the bench as she watched the Capitals battle with the Pittsburgh Penguins. It was the beginning of the third period and the game was tied two-to-two. So far things had been going well…no one was hurt and spirits were up. Jackie just wished she could share in with the players' excitement and enthusiasm. Her mind was somewhere up in the stands where Nicklas Backstrom sat with George McPhee watching the game unfold below them.

Ovechkin's line took to the ice for the next shift. As the players leapt off of the bench, Jackie glanced over at the Penguin's bench and froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief and shock as she made eye-contact with a petrified and sick-looking Sidney Crosby. The man was wearing a suite just as he had the last time they played against the Capitals…the same time that Nicklas Backstrom had sustained a concussion from an illegal and unnecessary hit by Matt Cooke.

"What the hell?" she muttered as she stared Crosby down.

Crosby looked away quickly and glanced out over the ice. Jackie watched the man like a hawk, her instincts kicking into high alert. There was something wrong here…she could feel it in her bones. A few moments later, Crosby leaned down and muttered something quickly into Matt Cooke's ear. The man gave Crosby a questioning look but nodded in agreement. He shrugged and muttered something unitelligable as his line took to the ice next.

Crosby glanced over at Jackie and swallowed nervously when he noticed that she been watching every move he had made. Something in the girl's eyes unnerved him. It was as if she had figured him out…but that wasn't possible. Hell their own P.I. hadn't figured Crosby out. He was over in the corner of the bench talking up a storm with the Brent Johnson, the back-up goal tender, barely paying attention to what was happening on the ice. No, that female P.I. couldn't know a thing…he was just being paranoid. He shook his head, trying to clear his jumbled, racing thoughts as he turned his attention back to the ice.

Jackie followed Crosby's intense stare and saw that he was watching Matt Cooke's every move. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and began to do the same. Matt Cooke kept looking over at Brooks Laich hungrily, like he couldn't wait to go after him. What the hell was that about? Brooks hadn't done a damn thing to piss him off…what was Cooke's deal?

In that moment the pieces fell in place for Jackie O'Brian. The Doctor…Sidney Crosby…goddamn fucking Sidney Crosby worked for the fucking Doctor. Crosby had muttered something to Cooke before Backstrom was hit…the image was as clear as day in Jackie's mind. Crosby did the dirty work for The Doctor…he hurt the players. That had to be it…she couldn't prove it but her instincts were screaming that she was right. Jackie didn't have any time to think anymore…it was time to act or Brooks Laich might find himself in the same boat as Nicklas.

Just then, Matt Cooke whirled on Brooks Laich. Brooks wasn't even looking in Cooke's direction and didn't see him coming…and that was when Jackie O'Brian did the craziest, most dangerous, insane thing she had ever done in her life…

…

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	12. Smooth Criminal

Jackie couldn't believe she was actually doing this. This was beyond the point of insanity…but what the hell else was she supposed to do? There wasn't time for anything else. She had no time to warn anyone or explain what she had just figured out. No…it was time for action and explanation later. Without a second thought, Jackie O'Brian, P.I., jumped out into the middle of the NHL Verizon Center rink.

Instantly the referees blew hard on their whistles and the play ground to a sudden, surprising halt as the players gawked in disbelief at Jackie. The audience was on their feet, confused and concerned as they recognized the P.I. waving her arms wildly out on the ice.

Matt Cooke shot a look over at a startled and scared looking Sidney Crosby. He had literally been seconds away from plowing into Brooks Laich, as ordered. Brooks was staring Cooke down, just now realizing that Cooke had been rushing at him before Jackie hit the ice.

"What the hell is going on?" he growled angrily, glancing back and forth between Jackie and Matt Cooke.

Jackie struggled across the slippery surface and got in-between Cooke and Laich, trying to insure Cooke wouldn't still try and do something incredibly stupid.

"That's what I'd like to know!" barked one of the refs as he skated over to them, glaring down at Jackie.

"He was going to hurt you!" exclaimed Jackie, breathless and her eyes wide with desperation to explain herself, "I figured it out…the killer…the guy who's been doing this! It's the doctor! The doctor who was treating Stamkos! The one that no one can find anymore…he called McPhee and asked if Backstrom would like to be a new client. Then I realized Crosby…Crosby was here when Backstrom got hurt then he left right after with a smile on his face. He's here now, look! He's over there at the bench! He came here to make sure you got hurt…so that the doctor could get a hold of you too!"

Brooks shook his head, completely overwhelmed by the rush of information.

"I know it's hard to understand and I'll explain more later," said Jackie, "But right now, Matt Cooke and Sidney Crosby are officially under arrest!" she exclaimed loudly.

Security began moving onto the ice at that point after hearing Jackie's exclamation. Matt Cooke struggled as the officers escorted him off of the ice. Crosby meanwhile made a break for it. Jackie cried out when she saw him scramble away from the bench in a desperate attempt to avoid capture.

The Capitals players still at the bench began yelling and trying to get out of their own bench to chase him down, but that wasn't necessary. As soon as Crosby left the bench and turned to make a bee-line for the tunnel that led to the guest locker room, he ran right into an infuriated Nicklas Backstrom and George McPhee.

"Shit," he hissed out in panic as McPhee and Backstrom worked together to get a hold of Crosby.

Verizon Center security moved to help them and put Crosby in handcuffs while the stands erupted in cheers at the sight. Despite the circumstances, Jackie couldn't help but smirk a little at the fans' reaction. They had no idea what was happening…all they knew was that their two least favorite players on the Penguins' team had just been arrested and that thrilled them.

As the security personnel escorted Crosby away, Brooks Laich and Alex Ovechkin helped Jackie get off of the ice. She ran over to Nicklas and threw her arms around his neck, clinging onto him as tight as she could. She felt the tears running down her cheeks before she even realized that she was crying at all.

"It's over," murmured Nicklas quietly in her ear, "It's over now."

"No…The Doctor," said Jackie, "We gotta find him now."

Backstrom smiled, "That's for the police and the feds to do now…you're a P.I. You did your part…it's over for you now."

Jackie felt her knees go weak with that realization. It really was over…for her anyway. The investigation was coming to a sudden close. Now it was up to the police and the courts to determine what would happen to the men who had caused the deaths of several NHL stars.

"Thank God," murmured Jackie as she leaned into Nicklas, "Thank God…"

…

_Afterward_

After several drug tests, the medical examiners determined that the players who had died suspicious deaths had all died from high doses of oxycodone mixed with a layer of LSD. The deadly combination killed the players' pain from their various injuries, but the high dosage of oxycodone made them addicted to the pills. The LSD added to the potent pain killers caused feelings of extreme depression, anxiety and hopelessness and possibly some hallucinations. Many of the players had either OD'd on the pills, mixed them with alcohol or had committed suicide.

Matt Cooke was released from custody after receiving a substantial fee and permanent expulsion from the NHL for his behavior.

Sidney Crosby, on the other hand, was convicted on several counts of second degree murder and received life in prison without parole for his part in the crimes. His pleas of insanity and mental instability fell on deaf ears. He claimed to have suffered from post-partum depression after suffering his concussion and being forced to leave the NHL. He used this excuse to explain his anger issues and his reasoning behind getting involved with The Doctor. The judge ignored these excuses and gave him the highest possible sentence.

Despite multiple interrogations and investigations by police officials, local, state and federal levels, The Doctor was never found…

…

"I guess it'll always be a mystery," said Jackie with a sigh as she overlooked the reflecting pool in downtown D.C., walking hand-in-hand with Nicklas Backstrom.

"I'm afraid so," said Nicklas, equally disappointed with the news, "You think he'll come back?"

"I don't know Nicky," murmured Jackie, "I just don't know."

Nicklas reached down suddenly and scooped Jackie off of her feet and cradled her in his arms as he continued walking. Jackie laughed in surprise and wrapped her arms around Nicklas' neck as she leaned up to kiss him.

"But I know I'll be safe because you're here," said Nicklas with his cute, Swedish accent.

"And I know you'll always protect me…you always have my back," answered Jackie with a smile.

"Always," murmured Nicklas as he leaned in and kissed her again while the sun set behind them, disappearing from the beautiful D.C. skyline…

…

The Doctor held his bag close to his chest as the train rattled along down the track. He kept muttering to himself about his failures…about how close he had been to fulfilling his revenge.

Once, long ago, The Doctor had been a hockey player himself…but another player had given him a debilitating injury, one that forced him out of the NHL before he was ever able to play in his first game. It was a goddamn scrimmage and he had sustained a concussion and a broken leg. The player who had hurt him had done so in desperation…in desperation because he wanted The Doctor's spot on the team. He had done it out of selfishness and greed. Well…guess who was sorry now? Guess whose life was over now? Not The Doctors…oh no…not The Doctor's.

The Doctor smiled coldly as he thought about the headlines on the papers he had read that morning before he boarded the train. Ah yes…Sidney Crosby had gotten his just deserts. The Great Sidney Crosby, who had ruined The Doctor's life, was now wasting away in prison for the rest of his life. The next best thing to that result would have been if The Doctor had been able to kill him himself.

The Doctor's original plan had been to kill all the NHL superstars. He practiced with some NHL enforcers until he had perfected the drug. It had worked beautifully with Stamkos…his list would have consisted of: Brooks Laich, Nicklas Backstrom, Alex Ovechkin, Martin St. Louis, Pronger, Malkin, the Sedin twins and so forth. No more NHL superstars…no. They should have all died. They should have all suffered like he had…felt that same anguish and loss. But that was not to be. No matter…Sidney Crosby was being punished and that sated The Doctor's appetite for revenge. He could live with that fact. He could move on with his life now…he was done with the NHL now. It was time to move on with his life.

The Doctor chuckled to himself as he waved goodbye to Washington D.C. from the window of his seat on the train…

"Good bye Sidney…say hello to the devil for me…"

…

THE END

"_You've been hit by, you've been struck by, a Smooth Criminal!"_

…

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